Forgotten
by starkidmoonshoes
Summary: "Ignorance is bliss," a quote from Thomas Gray. Some would say it's better to leave things the way they are and maybe not knowing there was something better would ironically leave you better off instead. But not Draco Malfoy. He knew what he wasn't enough, but finding her came with a price he wasn't sure he could live with.


Adjusting his tie in his reflection, Draco Malfoy breathed heavily at the sight of his finished dress robes. Sleek and expensive black robes with a single white rose in his heart pocket. No matter how much he adjusted himself in the mirror, it didn't look right. "Oh son, stop fidgeting! You'll wrinkle the fabric," his Mother, who stood behind him watching him, "It is perfect, all the adjustments are right. Now take it off before you ruin it."

Draco rolled his eyes and removed his coat, handing it to his Mother and removing his tie. "This is rather exciting, isn't it? Astoria was thrilled when I last spoke to her. She'll be staying in the West wing and you will be in your room in the East. You are to make no contact with her until the ceremony. Understood?" She lectured.

"Yes, Mother. You've explained it before," he muttered, un-cuffing his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves. "Alright, what time will you be back?" She asked.

"I don't know. Probably late."

"Yes, but not too late. You will be up bright and early tomorrow. And I expect Theo and Blaise to be on time as well."

"Of course," he assured and moved towards the door, grabbing his other coat from the chair.

"Did they tell you where they're taking you? You better not drink any of that Firewhiskey, or you'll end up like your Father. For 10 years, that man has not had a drink out of his hands and you will not follow in his footsteps."

"If anything, it will only be a few Butterbeers. And no, they wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well then, be careful, alright? I'll see you in the morning. Have fun, but not too much fun..." His Mother carefully added. She always was one to worry endlessly over his whereabouts, nearly had him removed from the Quidditch team back at Hogwarts because it was too 'dangerous.' It had gotten worse over the years, especially during the war when torture or even death was a definite possibility. Draco cautiously closed the door to the drawing room and glided down the hall of the manor until he reached the front door where Theo and Blaise were already waiting. "Finally!," Theo exclaimed, "Thought you would never show up. Come on, let's go. I know this great stripper bar-"

"We're not actually going there, Theo," Draco reminded as the three boys walked down the steps and towards the main gates. "You aren't, but Blaise and I got a good night ahead of us. Sure you don't want to tag along? It is your stag party..."

"Not here," Draco seethed and looked back at the Manor where his Mother was expectedly watching him from the drawing room window. He gave a quick wave and walked faster, Blaise and Theo following. Once behind the gates and safely way from his Mother's eyes, they stopped and Blaise pulled out a clear vial of liquid from his coat pocket. Draco grabbed it and examined the liquid, tilting it from side to side. "So this is it? And you're sure it will work?" Draco verified.

"Of course, it will. I made it," Blaise gloated, and Draco rolled his eyes, "Are you sure you want this, Draco? The wedding's tomorrow-"

"This is my last chance, and I can't get married not knowing."

"Yeah, I get it...I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I've put it off long enough, it's time I do something for myself."

"Well, I'm proud of you, Drake," Theo complimented, "I never liked Astoria anyway, always spreading rumors about me being a wanker."

"But you are a wanker," Blaise teased, recieving daggering glares from Theo.

Draco ignored them and reminded him, "It won't be forever. Just one night."

"One night?! I watched Blaise make a whole cauldron of that stuff, you'll surly have enough for a few more goes!"

"I'm getting married tomorrow, Theo. I don't exactly have another go at this."

"You couldn't have done this earlier before you got engaged?"

Draco ignored him again, "No more questions, Theo. You two go have fun, but meet me back here at the gates in the morning." And with that, Draco turned around and apparated away.

It wasn't that Draco didn't want to be wed someday, it just seemed too early and he still wanted to be able to explore his options without being held down by a wife, Astoria of all people. He cared about Astoria, only he felt that being married wasn't exactly his choice, and more so hers and his Mother's. When his Mother first gave him the family ring, he wasn't sure what to say, only that turning 21 had its obligations. Every Malfoy has wed a pureblood wife as far as he knew and must continue the line as pure as possible. Sometimes he thought that his Mother forced him into marriage at an early age because she was afraid of him lusting after anyone else. Astoria didn't seem to mind at all, he knew of her affections ever since Hogwarts. He never pursued her because it never felt quite...right.

He reappeared on the streets of Diagon Alley and stepped into Paulkin's Flower shop where the sweet, grassy aroma of fresh flowers filled his senses. He strode towards the back counter where Mr. Paulkin awaited his arrival. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I have your flower arrangement all ready."

"Thank you, Mr. Paulkin."

As he retrieved it from the back and placed it in front of him in a long silvery box tied with a pink bow, Paulkin asked, "If you don't mind me asking, why such an unusual arrangement? Forgive me if I'm too intrusive, but Ms. Greengrass seemed more like a 'rose' person."

"Well, after ordering dozens of bouqets of roses for dozens of tables, I think I wouldn't want to see another rose for a while either."

"Ah, I see." Draco was an excellent liar, something people wouldn't usually pride themselves on but Draco was different. He paid his galleons and left the shop with a box in hand. He then strolled into the nearest alley, away from the sight of wandering pedestrians where he opened the box and gazed at the arrangement. He placed the box on the ground and took out the vial from his pocket and his wand. He un-corked the vial and with his wand, spun it around the rim and turned the liquid into a sparkling gas that trailed his wand tip. He took the gas bubble, pointed it at the box, and shut the cover quickly; trapping the gas withing the box. He pocketed the vial and then turned his wand towards himself, reciting the spell he committed to memory. His face changed and suddenly resembled a stranger to the ordinary persons' eye.

Turning away to the shop window reflection, he saw the same blonde hair and grey eyes. But to a bystander, he was no one but a person you faintly recall passing on your way to work. The perfect disguise. Only he and one other person could see past it, or at least he hoped that would be the out come. Pocketing his wand and clutching the box, he casually strolled out of the alley and joined the crowd of unrecognizable faces.

_Deep breaths,_ he reminded himself, _this will be quite possibly the stupidest decision you've ever made. It not only could ruin your marriage, your reputation, and your entire life, but it'll completely defy everything you were meant to believe. But it's worth it. _

_She's worth it._

* * *

Hermione Granger angrily threw her papers down at her desk and covered her eyes in frustration. Someone - once again - filed the paper work wrong and got two case files mixed up, meaning she'll have double the work tonight going through both. And ever since Shacklebolt set about the rule of going home strictly at 7 (specifically for her, who would often spend the night finishing everything without leaving her desk for a second), she would have to bring the work home with her, much to her dismay. She stood up and straigtened her hunched over back, stretching her slender arms over her head and to the sides. Turning towards the window, she looked down at all her fellow co-workers chatting amongst themselves as they went home and dissapeared into the green flames of the Floo stations. It was a Friday night and the only place Hermione wanted to be was at work.

She didn't have anything to prove, only that she did her job. Being a part of the Ministry was a very demanding job and it took a lot of effort to get to that point. Unlike Harry and Ron who went for an Auror position who didn't have to redo their Seventh year because their jobs were handed to them on silver platters. No, Hermione had to work for that position, aceing all her N.E.W.T. exams with near perfect scores. _Near._

Just then, a knock came from the door and her secretary, Hannah Longbottom, a fellow Hogwarts alumni and wife of her dear friend Neville, came through. "Ms. Granger, I'm heading home now. And Mr. Shacklebolt wanted me to remind you that it's nearly 7."

"Yes, I'm aware. I'll be out in a minute. Thank you, Hannah. And please call me Hermione, we've been over this," she reminded.

"Right, sorry. Good night, Hermione," Hannah said as she shut the door, only to open it again and exclaimed, "Oh, wait! I forgot to give this to you. It's addressed to you but someone put it on my desk." She walked over and handed Hermione a long silvery box with a light pink bow. It had a tag with her name written in neat, cursive letters. "Oh, who's it from?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"I don't know, I just found it," Hannah shrugged and said again, "Well, have a good night, Hermione."

"You too, Hannah," and she shut the door. It wasn't her birthday and they weren't near any holidays. Hermione was half-tempted to check the box for jinxes, quite possibly from George who still sends her gags whenever he has a chance. She shook the box, but couldn't tell what was in it from the rustling noise it made. She sat down and untied the bow in her lap. Her hands hovered over the cover before opening it and getting overwhelmed by the perfume-like fragrance of the flower arrangements. The scent was...incredible, and the flowers were just as amazing. The arrangement was peculiar, but she loved them regardless. Only...who would send such a gift?

She packed away her files in her briefcase and conjured a vase and water for the flowers. She admired the arrangement on her desk and left her office with a warm smile on her face. At the elevator, the doors slid open and another man was using the elevator as well. Hermione stepped inside. "What floor?" he asked.

"Bottom, thanks," she thanked as he pressed the button.

"Looks like we're going the same way," he commented casually.

"It appears so." She ignored the side glance he gave her, holding back her own glance she wanted to give. "Big plans tonight, I presume," he conversed.

She shook her head and replied, "Not for me."

"Really? A beautiful woman like yourself staying home on a Friday night?" he complimented. Hermione turned to him and felt the blush creeping up into her cheeks. "A Ministry job is no easy task. I'm always busy working, even if it is at home." He mumbled something, but she couldn't hear it. "Surely you must have something else planned. Perhaps a date? Got anyone special you're going out to see?"

The elevator door opened and the two stepped out. "I don't do well on dates. You, however, a charming fellow like yourself, I'm sure have been on loads of dates." The man raised an eyebrow and smirked a delightfully handsome smirk. "You'd be surprised, I'm not the dating type. The charm, however, comes natural to me, I suppose." Hermione supressed a giddy smile. "How have we not met before? What department do you work in?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't work here. Just visiting a friend."

"A friend? Do I know her?"

"Why do you presume my friend is a girl?"

Hermione smirked and continued walking to the exit, "You seem like the type to have a few friends, who happen to be girls, of course."

The man arched his eyebrow again, "Are you calling me attractive?"

"I never said that," she teased. He held the door open for her as the two walked out of the building and towards the Floo station. "But you implied it," he teased back.

"I did no such thing."

"Why, of course you did. You said that I'm a charming fellow, who gets lots of dates, and happens to have a few friends who are all girls. Therefore, you find me attractive."

"I find you interesting, that's a better word for it."

"Well, I'm flattered either way," and he winked. Not in the way you'd expect a total stranger to wink, but an almost charismatic, playful wink. And that smirk. That smirk that made her heart skip a beat. For the first time, in a long time, Hermione Granger was actually _hot _for someone. Even through his suit, she could see long muscular arms and a sculpted - slightly pointed - jaw line. He was quite pale for her taste but it was his eyes that really got to her. A deep grey that made you want to drown in them but at the same time held back something far greater than what he put off.

"Say, since we've been standing in silence in front of the Floo station for about 3 minutes," he broke her reverie, "What do you say we get something to eat?"

"A total stranger asking me out on a date?" she said astonishingly.

"An _attractive_ total stranger asking you on a date," he corrected with a smile, "I'll pay," he bargained.

She pondered the thought, putting aside her need to work and looking into his eyes once more. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the Floo station; and before disappearing into the green flames, whispered in his ear, "We'll split the check."

* * *

Hermione unlocked and opened the door to her apartment and set aside her briefcase, leaving the door open for him as he stepped inside and shut the door. He still seemed confused of why they were there and playfully said, "So doesn't the part where I come home with you come after we have dinner?" She gave him a somewhat disgusted look before he shot a smirk at her, causing her to giddily roll her eyes. "I just need to change. Just make yourself at home," she said and disappeared into her bedroom.

She chose a simple short (but not too short) red dress with 3/4 sleeves and a boat neckline. She picked out black heels and a black purse to match. Her hair was much easier to manage ever since Ginny gave her that charm to make her hair straighter. She brushed through it and left like that just for time purposes. When she came out, she saw him looking at her photographs on her mantle, particularly the one of her, Ron, and Harry at Hogwarts.

"Recognize them?" she startled him.

"Wow, you look...stunning," he complimented.

She walked over and pointed out the people in the picture. "That's Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, I went to school with them," she pointed out.

"I knew I recognized you from somewhere. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our age. I'm sure your used to people calling you by that title."

"It grows on you after a while. Did you go to Hogwarts too?"

"I went to Durmstrang, although I do wish I went to Hogwarts. I could have gotten to know _you_ better." She blushed and swooned over how close he stood and the subtle scent of his brilliant cologne, almost as nice as the flowers giver to her. He seemed to relish in the feeling as well of being so close to another person, only heart beats away. She snapped herself out of it and suddenly came upon the question, "Wait, I'm sorry, I completely neglected to ask for your name. You must think silly of me for not asking."

"Draco Malfoy. And you're not silly at all. Although, accepting an invitation on a date without knowing the persons' name is quite foolish," he played.

"Draco...I like that name," she mindlessly complimented, getting caught up in something she thought she recognized in his eyes, "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

His eyes darted across her face, "I-I don't know. We might have seen each other from time to time at the Ministry."

"Hm...You're probably right," she agreed and moved towards the door to fetch her coat. Draco already longed for the closeness they felt before but admired the subtle scent of perfume following her as she moved. After getting ready, Draco led her to a high-end restaurant on Diagon Alley. She was so used to just passing the restuarant she barely knew it was even there. Upon arriving, they were asked for a reservation but Draco took him to the side and whispered something she couldn't hear. The waiter then led them to a table in the far corner of the restaurant, away from the most noise and hustle and bustle of the kitchen. "So, you probably come here a lot considering they would just let you in without a reservation," she noticed as he pulled out a chair for her and she sat down.

"Let's just say I have some...pull in the Wizarding World."

"Really? Are you a business man?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm a Healer. Not famous, really."

"What made you decide to become a Healer?" she questioned as the waiter served them a deep red wine and gave them their menus.

He sipped at his wine and replied, "Well, after the war - after seeing all the destruction - I wanted to help the people in some way. The war changed me. You see, I wasn't always as...charming as I am now. Especially during my school days."

"So you're saying you were a bully?"

He gulped, "No...well, at least not from my perspective."

"What-"

"Let's not talk about me. How about you? What made you pick a stuffy old Ministry job when you could be out causing mischief with Potter and Weasley?"

"They aren't causing mischief, they are very dedicated to their jobs as Aurors," she corrected, "And I enjoy being surrounded by books and paperwork. It's sort of...familiar territory, if you will."

"Books and cleverness, that is your skill set. I like that," he complimented. She crossed her legs and bid him a small tip of the glass as she sipped at her drink. The pair ordered their meals from their menus and returned to watching each other sip at their drinks and looking for that weak point to peck at. "You said the war changed you," she returned to their original topic, "How so?"

"I guess you can say that my family, well, they were strict on what I should believe in and who I should hold in high regards. That most people were beneath us and that we-"

"Purebloods. You mean Purebloods," she surprised him.

"Yes, I just-"

"Didn't know how to say it. I understand. You don't need to caramelize it for me, Draco. After surviving a war, much longer than what people think it was, I've realized that there will always be someone who disagrees and that our world will never be entirely integrated. There will always be that boundary, and no war can fully fix that."

"It changed lives, that's certain."

"It certainly changed mine."

"How did it affect you? Specifically, I mean."

She pondered the question and replied, "I think it made me see the reality in the world. That not everything could be found in the pages of a book. During that time, death could be just around the corner, and staying alert was your only chance of survival. It also made me question my beliefs, whom I could believe in. People I've known for years could turn their wand on you and kill you in an instant." Draco's leg twitched and he tapped his glass repeatedly. "We faced reality through bloodshed and sorrow, and that is something I'll never let go," she spoke. Everything she said spoke true for both herself and himself. The war caused him to see that the world was not black and white, and that seeing the grey was the best part of it.

That's what made Hermione so special. She was the grey.

The food came to their table and as they ate, Hermione spoke first, "So tell me about your family. You mentioned they were prominent in this world, how come I never heard of them?"

"Well they are part of an upper-class society."

"Are you saying I'm not upper class?"

Draco quickly denied, "No, no! That's not what I meant. I meant that they're a pretty private bunch. We like to keep to ourselves."

She nodded, "I see. A powerful pureblood family, the Malfoys..."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just...that name sounds so familiar."

His fork clattered on his plate, startling her and certainly shattering any thought she had on the matter. "Sorry," he apologized, "Why don't you tell me about your family? I didn't take Muggle studies in school so I don't understand many of the customs."

She nodded slowly as if taking in his question, "Well, muggles aren't so different from Wizards-" His fork clattered again, and this time his arm knocked over the red wine and spiling it over the white tablecloth.

"Oh my goodness!" she stumbled upon her words, "Are you alright?" His eyes almost jutted out as if trying to figure out himself what had just occurred, and barely a word came out of his mouth. "I-I'm fine, just a slip of the wrist," he reassured. The waiter rushed over and with his wand cleaned up the stained tablecloth and refilled his glass. "Thanks," Draco mumbled and the waiter nodded and left.

"Are you sure you're alright? It seemed like you were shocked about what I said," Hermione noted.

He gulped his wine down, "Said about what?"

"That Muggles aren't so different from Wizards..." she said hesitantly, watching his hand twitch, "Unless you think different."

"I...well...don't you think they're at least different in the slightest?" Draco tried to say in a non-offensive tone.

"Other than magic, we're all human beings," she stated in a matter-of-factly tone. She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, "What makes you think we're all so different?"

"Other than magic? I suppose...everything," Draco said, "Wizards _are_ better than Muggles." Draco waited for her to respond, but instead of words, she took action and kicked him in the shin under the table. Hard. "Ow, bloody hell!" Draco yelled, "What was that for?" But it was too late, she was already leaving the restuarant and a pained Draco alone at the table. He took off after her, throwing a couple of galleons at the Waiter and hoping he would catch all of it. By the time he reached outside, he saw her walking past a street lamp at the end of the alley. "Granger, wait!," he panted after her, "Stop, I didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean it?! Of course you meant it, all you purebloods are the same. Only seeing Muggles and Wizards and not bothering to care about the other half," she turned to face him just below the street lamp, "You're all so ignorant, failing to see the goodness of Muggles and what they have to offer."

He stopped in front of her, "I shouldn't have said we were better. But you have to admit that having magic has its advantages."

"The Muggle World is perfectly capable of surviving without magic. Unlike your type who probably can't tie his shoes without a wand," she snapped.

Draco furrowed his brows and clenched his fists tightly, "You're one to talk! You're such a hypocrite, Granger! Don't tell me you don't use magic like the rest of us do. And I do NOT tie my shoes with a wand!"

"I am a muggleborn, Malfoy! I may have magical abilities but I still keep true to where I come from. No one is better, we're all human." Part of Draco wanted to continue screaming at her, and tell her how wrong she was. But she wasn't wrong at all, everyone was human and it frustrated Draco that she was the one who made him see that. She watched him search his thoughts, almost mesmerized by the way his eyes darted across her face searching for some indication to keep the fight going. She didn't know why but she found that the arguing came easy to her, and she hasn't felt that way ever since Hogwarts. For some reason, she couldn't seem to stay mad at him. A total stranger.

She turned around slowly and clenched her coat in her hands, unexpectedly slowing down to wait for him. As expected he followed. They dropped an argument, just like that. Just so that they can keep whatever they had going, because truthfully, she did want to keep going.

* * *

The continued their stroll down the alley in silence until there wasn't any path left to walk on. At that point, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hold onto the night, or head home. He hadn't said a word since and it made her nervous that he wasn't speaking to her, it made her feel like he was already over her. She paused in front of him, and saw that he wasn't looking at her anymore, just at the ground. "Y-You called me Granger..." she mumbled.

"What?" he finally spoke.

"Back there, when we were arguing. You called me Granger." His body tensed up and she spoke for him, "Is that your way of telling me you're no longer interested?"

His expression changed and he urged, "No, no! Please don't think that, it was a slip of the tongue. I promise it won't happen again." She relaxed under his gaze until he spoke again, "Although, you _did_ call me Malfoy."

"Did I really?" she questioned, "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize it. Strange."

"Indeed," he said, "So where else would you like to go? The night's still young."

Hermione seemed shocked by this statement, seeing as he actually wanted to spend more time with her. "How about a walk into London?" she suggested. Draco agreed and they proceeded into London where the streets were crowded, the noise was awful, and the people seemed to be busier than ever even at a quarter to nine. The silence followed them into the city and Hermione found it hard to understand why she wanted this date to work well. She did like Draco a lot, but the silence was brutal and she worried that this might be their first and last date. Ever since she broke up with Ron a few months after the war had ended, it was difficult to get into dating and finding anything romantic at all. Whether she liked it or not, Hermione Granger longed for intimacy with another human being that she could have never gotten with Ron. And with Draco, it seemed like he could be something special and above all the most curious man she's ever known. There was something almost familiar about him. The way he talked, the way he acted, and that bright-as-the-sun blonde hair. But the charming attitude he gave off could not hide the dark persona around him. The way he walked seemed like there should be a billow of black smoke trailing behind or a wicked glare catching you from around the corner. His eyes could make your soul cringe but it could also make your heart soar. Draco Malfoy was no ordinary man.

"Staring at me isn't going to break the silence, Granger," he blurted as they walked.

"It's Hermione," she said half-sassily.

"Right- Sorry," he apologized, "Is there any place you'd like to go to? You know this city better than I do."

"There is a pub near by - not anything from the gutter - it has music, drinks...dancing on some nights." Hermione wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she loved to dance. "Well let's go then, lead the way," he said politely. They strolled to the place, not like a pub at all, but somewhere between a loud coffee shop and a quiet dance club. The place was called, _Notes_, and the music could be heard from a block away. The whole building took up two floors with glass walls lighting up the night. The inside were two white staircases leading to the dance floor above and the pub down below with Muggle socialites clinking their glasses and laughing at jokes no one thought were funny. Hermione and Draco seemed underdressed for the occasion, as noticed by Draco, but Hermione didn't seem to mind at all. She took him up the stairs which led to a large ball room which was already filled to the rim with people. "Have you been here before?" Draco asked, noting her obvious excitement.

"My friend spoke of this place once, and I've always wanted to come."

"Well then," he said as the previous song ended and a new one began, "Care for a dance?" It wasn't much of a question, since he took her hand and swung her into his arms with such grace it nearly made her swoon. Hermione hid her absolute joy with a subtle smile as they swayed into the middle of the room, just in front of the band. He wrapped his arm around her waist and took hold of her hand in his. Draco knew basic steps in a ballroom dance - being trained in just about everything sophisticated and high class - but everything seemed to fall through the cracks as he looked into her eyes. Deep, rich brown that made something in his soul twist and turn in a good way. She swayed with him and the music, but kept his eyes focused on his. He twirled her around and laughed a little as she stumbled, but clearly neither of them cared. She laughed in his arms as he twirled her again and caught her with his body, embracing her.

Merlin, how he loved that laugh.

He heard it many years ago down the halls of Hogwarts, with Potter and Weasley. He despised them for many reasons, but one that he could never understand was why she chose them. They didn't deserve her, and they still don't. He envied the way they could make her laugh, smile, and be happy. He could never do that and accepted it with taunts and pries at her, a past he was not proud of. It wasn't until his 6th year -the year that changed his life - that he realized his feelings for her. But his side in the war changed everything, and what he found just beyond his reach became impossible. She was impossible. And even after all these years, something inside him knew that whatever spell Hermione Granger had him under wasn't going to stop until they were finally together. And now here they were, in each other's arms and locking eyes as if they were the only two people in the room. That was when Draco knew that that spell was forever and no life time of marriage to another was ever going to douse the flame in his heart which was Hermione Granger. "Draco, are you alright?" she asked towards the end of the song.

_I don't know if I ever will be just alright, _he thought. "I'm fine," he lied. The song ended and instead of waiting for the next one, Draco and Hermione went downstairs for a drink at the bar. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked as he drank his wine.

"This is the most fun I've had in quite some time," she admitted, "I'd really like to do it again sometime."

Draco paused and set down his drink. "Granger-"

"Hermione," she corrected.

"Hermione, I've been meaning to...I have to..." he started, but couldn't seem to put what needed to be heard in words. How do you tell a girl you've fallen for that you were to never see each other again? When he came upon the idea of the potion, he had his mind set on a one night fling with the girl whose his heart had been set on since school; but who knew that in one night his life could change and that suddenly marrying out of obligation was no longer good enough. But telling her now would not only ruin the night, but her vision of a mysterious, charming stranger that she could grow to love if she had the chance. The effects of the potion would only last until tomorrow morning, then from that point on she would have no recollection of the night and the only Draco Malfoy she would remember would be the muggleborn-hating, Death-eater bully she knew from school. This was their last night, and it may as well be their last night on earth. He looked up and gazed into her eyes with a look he's never given to another human being before and said, "You are so beautiful," the only thing he could think of.

She blushed and looked down at her hands. Out of all the moments to kiss someone in her life time - including her kiss with Ron back at the Battle of Hogwarts - she has never wanted to kiss someone as much as she wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy in that moment. Their hands touched atop the bar and she let her hand fall into his. Just as she was about to lean in, he stopped her with his eyes. He spoke, "It's getting late," which was date-language for: _That's enough for tonight. _

* * *

They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley where they could safely apparate back to her apartment. She purposely apparated with him further from her apartment door than necessary just so she could spend more time walking with him. But even those last few steps weren't enough time spent together, and they both felt it. She stood facing him in front of her door, only a yellowish lamp at the end of the hall silhouetting them as merely man and woman. "Tonight has been...incredible," she breathed, letting her words travel a mere distance to his face.

"It truly has," he agreed with a smile.

"When can I see you again?" she asked hopefully. His expression changed and the corners of his mouth faltered. "I-" he started but was interrupted.

"That's alright. You don't have to tell me now. I could always see you again at the Ministry," she suggested, saving him from telling her an awful truth. _Don't kiss her,_ he thought, _it will only make it worse. _She didn't seem sad as to why he wouldn't kiss her, only curious. "Well, good night then, Draco," she said, opening the door behind her and with one final, longing and utterly cliche look closed the door. It was surreal. Like being snapped out of a trance she had him under this whole night, when it really had felt like a lifetime. Draco stumbled back against the opposite wall, and wanted nothing more then to slide down it and huddle up in a ball, telling himself how stupid he was for asking her out for one night when he could find a way to run away with her for a lifetime.

Suddenly the door opened, and there she appeared again, only this time her curiosity had peaked. "Ok, listen here, Draco Malfoy and listen good because I have been thinking about this all night long," she began, "To me, this felt like one of - if not the best - nights of my life and here you are treating it as though this may be the only night of your life, as if this was the last time you could ever be on a date again. But it's more than that and I think it has something to do with me. You sent me those flowers in my office and purposely met up with me on that elevator, somehow knowing you would get me to go out with you. And you may think that's all I've figured out but there's so much more, isn't there? I know a potion when I smell it and you put something in those flowers that would make me forget, right? But forget what, one might ask. It's simple. You knew me before we came on this date and clearly I knew you, otherwise you wouldn't have given me such a potion. But what is it that you've done to go through so much effort to make me forget? By the dosage, I'd say that potion would last, let's say about...one night. So in conclusion, you concocted a potion to make me forget who you are for a whole night, put it in some flowers, met me in the elevator, went on a lovely date and not have the decency to kiss me good ni-!" But she was stopped by his lips on hers, frantically - desperately - stopping her from continuing on. _Merlin it was true,_ he thought, _of course it was true._

Those lips, he could have devoured them. He pushed her up against the door, pressing her into him and embedding him with her scent. Oh, he wanted her, more than any human being on this earth. "Who...are...you?" she said between kisses.

He broke the kiss and stared deeply into her brown eyes, "Do you really want to know?"

"Not at all," she breathed out and practically jumped on him. He kicked the door open and carried her into the living room, plopping her on the couch. He hovered over her and kissed his way down her neck and sucked on her collarbone, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his coat. "Stop..." he panted, "Please stop."

"Stop what?" she asked. He pulled away from her, a much harder task with the looks of fire in their eyes. "I can't go on. Not while you know this will only last a night. By tomorrow morning you will have no recollection of it and this would have all been for nothing," he said.

"It wasn't for nothing."

"No, it will, Granger! By tomorrow morning you will only remember the Malfoy you once knew, and I will be nothing. Just please, try to understand." Draco rendered her speechless. Everything he said was true, but she didn't want it to be. She wanted it to be all a lie and that she just had the most fantastic night of her life and she would somehow seem him again the next day where they could go on hundreds of dates. "And what am I supposed to do?!" she yelled, "Just sit around and take it?!"

"Yes, Granger! That was the plan all along!"

"But I never wanted this!"

"You were never supposed to find out! This was supposed to be the one night for me to find out if I could get over you and the truth is, Granger...I can't."

"Then why didn't you just approach me before? Without the potion?" she asked, her voice softening and with a sympathetic pout.

"You would have denied me. And besides, it's too late for me, I've had all the chances in the world to come up to you and I took none of it. Now, it's all gone."

"What do you mean?"

"...I'm getting married tomorrow." Hermione's eyes widened and her hand met his face with a powerful slap. Draco stumbled back and held his face, shocked and reminded of the first time she slapped him, which she wouldn't remember. "How dare you?" she seethed with enough fire in her voice to burn.

"I had to know...I had to know if my feelings for you were only temporary. It wasn't my choice to be married! I never wanted this! Yes, I want a wife and kids but not with her! Blimey, I only knew the girl as a friend back in school and now look at us: betrothed! Now the wedding is tomorrow and the only person I would ever want to spend the rest of my life with isn't going to be there!" A single tear crept out of the corner of Hermione's eye and fell down upon her cheek. Draco hated to see her cry, loathed it. He's seen her cry many times before at Hogwarts, because those tears were usually from him. "I'm sorry, Granger," he spoke, "I will never be the person you want me to be." He kissed her forehead with such longing and remorse, and made his way to leave. At the doorway, he spoke again, "And if you ever find it in your heart to forgive the Draco Malfoy you really know, then please come find me," and then he was gone. Out of one night, Draco seemed to make her heart whole, only to leave it shattered in the end.

Draco apparated outside the gates of his home, and curled his fingers around the wrought-iron gates that concealed his fate. His knuckles turned white and his chest twisted with pain as he fought back a sob. It wasn't fair. Merlin knew it wasn't fair. The obligations to his family were bounded to him since birth. And after giving them as much of him as he possibly could, this was something that would break his fragile soul.

* * *

The sun arose and Hermione awoke to the morning daylight creeping in through her windows. She got up and walked over to the bathroom where she found intensely puffy eyes and a red nose. "What the-" she stated. She didn't remember crying last night. She washed her face and went into the kitchen to cook up some breakfast. As she waited for the pan to heat up, she found a folded piece of parchment on the table, with her name written atop.

The parchment read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_You are going to think this is strange, that you would be writing a letter to yourself, but this had to be done. I'm sure you won't remember what happened last night, or your memories might be replaced with new ones. Anyway, the point is your mind has been tampered with and you won't remember anything. However, there is something you should know. Remember Draco Malfoy, a boy from your past? While, he is the one who tampered with your memories. Now before you go off on a rampage looking for him, please continue reading. He did this for good enough reason. The truth is you two went on a date last night and it just so happened to be the best date of your life. It is the honest to god truth, so don't throw this parchment away just yet. But I won't say why he did this, because it will not only break your heart again, but it could potentially damage your mind from the effects of the potion. You may ask what is the importance of this letter, seeing as through you might not want anything to do with him anymore, but there is a task I'm putting you up to. I need you to find him, and forgive him. Plain and simple. I'm not sure what he's done (since I am the Hermione whose memories have been tampered with) or who he is exactly, but I assume it was bad enough that he found enough reason to give me this potion. So please, as a favor to myself, find him. Today. And make sure he knows this. From that point on, it will be your descision if you wish to speak to him again._

_Sincerely,_

_You (from last night)_

_P.S. By the way, he's getting married today. I should have mentioned that. Dress nicely._

_P.P.S. Your middle name is Jean, your cat's name is Crookshanks, your parents are in Australia, and you're still a virgin. Now you know for certain that it's me._

* * *

Draco stood once again in front of his full body mirror, his eyes no longer carrying any life to them and his best man behind him, cuffing his cuff links. "I'm telling you, Drake. Your stag party was insane. Theo got on top of the table and started doing thi-" Blaise stopped, "Mate, you got to know what happened at the party to tell everyone you were actually there."

"What? Oh, right. Sorry."

"What's up, Draco? I thought this was what you wanted..."

"Not to be married!," Draco snapped, turning around to glare, "Last night should never have happened, it's gotten out of control."

"What? You mean your infatuation with Granger? You were supposed to end whatever you felt about her last night."

"WELL IT HASN'T!" he shouted, "And I don't know if it will ever stop." A knock came from the door and Blaise, without saying a word, opened the door and peaked his head out. _Don't bother him now. He's touchy, _he heard whispered from the door. Another low whisper that sounded like Theo came from behind the door, followed by Blaise, _What?! What is sh- Tell her to leave! She can't be here!_

More whispers. Followed by more berates from Blaise and then silence.

_Five minutes, _he heard and then clicks of heels on the marble floor and the door shutting. He opened his eyes, not realizing they were closed in the first place and spun around to find Hermione Granger standing at his door with a blank look on her face. "Hello, Malfoy," she spoke.

"Granger," he breathed, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"The potion worked. I don't remember a thing. You got what you wanted," she stated sourly. She wore a similar red dress to the one she wore last night with shorter sleeves and a lower neckline. But other than that, she was like a vision, a memory. "How do you know that?" he questioned.

She pulled a piece of parchment from her bag and held it in the air, "I made a letter to myself," she opened it and looked down at her words, "It says you tampered with my memories for one night."

She folded it back up and continued, "What's your game?"

"It was no game, Granger!" he begged, taking two steps forward as she took two steps back. He spotted her action and seethed, "I don't need to convince you. That's why I gave you the potion."

"You were afraid I wouldn't give you a fair chance, because of our past, right?" she stated calmly, "Well, you were right. I wouldn't have given you a fair chance. I would have denied you the minute I laid eyes on you. But tampering with my memories? And you expect me to forgive you?"

"I never said that," he fumed.

"According to this-"

"I don't care what's on that parchment, Granger! Whatever happened last night should never be brought up again! I tampered with your memories because I couldn't risk you finding me the next day or the day after that! I didn't want to be a part of your life because you don't need that burden! Besides, I have a life all planned right here," he gestured to his setting.

"But you don't want this. I can see it in your eyes," she took two steps closer to him.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" he shouted, then softened his gaze, "Please." She ignored him and continued walking towards him until she was just a foot distance away. It was strange because the closer she was the more she stared deep into his eyes and hinting at the edges of his soul. It made his insides twist with how close she stood and the irony of how far apart they truly were. "You've changed," she barely whispered.

"That isn't for you to decide."

"Your right," _another step,_ "That's your decision." And she kissed him. No peck on the cheek, no peck on the lips. A real, meaningful, dangerously good kiss that may as well have branded his soul for no one other than her. Her lips parted from his, but didn't take back her hand which remained at the back of his neck, fingers running through his blonde hair. It felt right, and it might have been her subconscious that was telling her to never let him go. "I forgive you," she whispered. He didn't want to open his eyes, in fear that it might have been a dream. She forgave him, and now the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes opened and met with her deep brown eyes and longing gaze from the night before. But she released her gaze and blinked it away, turning around and walking back to the door. As the door opened, she looked back like she was going to say something, but stopped and instead let herself out.

* * *

_My love as deep; the more I give to thee, _  
_The more I have, both are infinite. _  
_- **William Shakespeare**_

A single note hidden in white tulips for forgiveness, forget-me-not's for remembrance, and yellow tulips for being hopelessly in love.


End file.
